Fading Light
by Sharn-sharn
Summary: "I have to survive, because I am Dusk!"- Dusk. It has been exactly one half-moon since Leafstorm's kits have been born, and more than three since she killed the monster of her nightmares, but not all is well, and ghosts from the past can be even more haunting than before. Sequel to Leaves in the Wind.
1. Prologue

**Hello everyone, and as you should know, this is the sequel of my other story, **_**Leaves in the Wind**_. **So if you haven't read that one yet, then I don't recommend that you go any further.**

**Well, on to the prologue.**

**Oh, and welcome to the new story: **_**Fading Light**_**.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

He was running.

The snow underneath his paws was icy and cold, scorching the pads of his paws like icy fire.

_Must get away..._

His thoughts were muddled, and he was confused.

_Why am I running?_

He knew he was young, but he didn't know by how _much_.

And all he knew was that he had to get away.

Because in his world, the failure of a task was punishable by death, and he had been given a task.

He had known it was of grave importance, it had been driven into his head since he was a tiny kit. He had been the only one that his father had trusted the task to, but he had refused, believing that one of the older cats could do it better.

That was the first mistake he made.

The second was openly refusing his father.

And the third was running away.

And this was where he was now: barely a moon old and out in the harshest weather of leafbare.

He now knew what he had done wrong: he had openly refused his father, tarnishing his reputation forever, and now, he was being chased on 'kill on sight orders'.

He had done everything wrong, and now, he was paying the price.

With an inaudible sigh, he stopped.

His paws were burning and his pelt was half frozen with snow. If he didn't get out of the cold soon, then he'd die. And just thinking of that made him shudder.

Because in reality, if he _didn't_ fulfill his father's ambitions, then he _would_ die.

Without warning, his legs gave out, and a moment later, he was a shuddering mess of icy, frozen fur, shivering from the harshest colds that leafbare threw at him.

_I-I... have to... survive..._

He drew in a sharp breath, the air whooshing into his lungs with a sharp, icy bite.

_I have to live because..._

His vision was steadily beginning to flicker black, but one, unwavering thought ran through his mind.

_I have to live, because I am Dusk, and in order to survive, I must fulfill my father's ambitions._

And with a shuddering gasp, his vision went black and he knew nothing.

**. . .**

**Darkfire**

Darkfire was irritated.

Why?

There were many reasons, and did he have to explain?

He guessed he would.

One: It was the middle of leafbare, and it was utterly _freezing._

Two: There was barely any prey to go around, and without the sustenance of food, the Clan was beginning to starve.

And three: New kits had been born into the Clan, and because of the famine and starvation that was currently plaguing them, the kits were steadily becoming weaker.

To make things worse, _Darkfire's_ kits were also among those few.

Needless to say, Darkfire wasn't very happy.

He was irritated because as the Clan deputy, he was expected to venture out in this cold, and even with his thick, wooly pelt, he'd probably freeze.

Well, at least Fernstar had forbidden the apprentice's from going out, but the only cats in the apprentices' den were Dawnhaze's kits: Oakpaw and Streampaw.

Darkfire sighed, his shoulders drooping, and leaving the comforting warmth of his nest, he ventured out into the bitter cold, his first stop being the nursery.

Darkfire knew that his mate, Blackwing, was waiting for him, as were their kits.

When Blackwing and him had first become mates, other cats had questioned their sanity.

Darkfire didn't blame them, of course, seeing as he _was_ over fifteen moons her senior. But he loved her, and nothing can break apart love, or so his mother used to say.

Darkfire's first pawstep into the snow shocked him beyond belief, and as soon as that first drop of sharp, icy cold seeped into his pelt, he winced. But he was Clan deputy, and he had his pride, not to mention that there were countless other cats in front of him, namely an old deputy's kits.

Darkfire spotted Dustcloud first.

It wasn't very hard, either, considering that her pelt was a bright, golden colour. When Darkfire was in talking distance with her, he mewed a greeting.

She seemed surprised at first, and Darkfire had to suppress a snort. He wasn't _that_ cold hearted, that was only Fernstar's sister, Leafstorm, speaking.

"Darkfire," Dustcloud mewed, her blue eyes widening at the sight of his snow-ruffled self. "Hi."

Darkfire nodded at her curtly, and he was somewhat surprised to see her two siblings, Breezefur and Lionfang standing by her side. But they _were_ siblings, and _incredibly_ close. Even more so after the death of their father, Silverflame.

Breezefur squinted at him, his brilliant eyes narrowing at him past the snow. "Darkfire?" He questioned, his deepened mew sounding _very_ much like his departed father.

In fact, Breezefur was a near carbon copy of his father, but there were touches of his mother, Honeypelt, here and there, like his gently tapered ears and smaller frame and eye shape.

Dustcloud looked very much like her mother, right down to the blue eyes.

But it was Lionfang, the ThunderClan medicine cat, who seemed to be a perfect blend of them both. His pelt was a murky gold colour and his eyes were the same shade of green that his father had possessed.

"Yes," Darkfire rumbled. "If you don't mind, I want to see my mate before we go on patrol."

Breezefur nodded curtly while Dustcloud groaned at the mere thought of border patrol.

Darkfire gazed at her sternly, though. And almost instantly, the golden she-cat deflated, and she mumbled, "Fine, I'll be there."

Darkfire shook his head almost fondly as he entered the Clan's nursery. When he caught sight of his mate sitting in the corner, I immediately padded over to her, and the sight of his two kits curled up at her belly filled him with warmth.

His two kits were now two moons old, and they were the cutest things that he'd ever laid eyes on.

His daughter, Rainkit, was a blue-grey colour with light green eyes, her mother's eyes.

His son, Mistkit, was a dark, near black colour with his eyes, amber.

But right now, his mate and kits were sleeping, so Darkfire gave them each a fond lick on the top of their heads and padded toward the entrance. On his way out, he caught the incredulous gaze of Leafstorm.

Darkfire had to stifle a sort of snicker at the sight of her, she looked ridiculous with her mouth parted like that.

But suddenly, her green eyes abruptly hardened and she sent Darkfire a poisonous glare, all the while glancing at her own kits. Darkfire snorted at her sudden defense, but her mate, her silent protecter, sent him a warning look, and the message in those chilling blue eyes clearly stated, _'Stay away or else'_.

"I have no desire to touch her _or_ her kits," he muttered, watching as his former apprentice's head inclined, a silent thanks present in his constantly cold eyes.

Darkfire met Dustcloud and Breezefur at the entrance, and together, they ventured out into the bitter cold.

They must have patrolled for what seemed like _hours_, and just as Darkfire was getting ready to call it a day, Dustcloud suddenly gasped, her blue eyes averting to the ground.

Darkfire followed her gaze, and saw what appeared to be a lump of something safely nestled underneath immeasurable amounts of snow. He frowned, shooting a questioning look at Dustcloud.

The golden she-cat shrugged, purposefully striding towards the lump and digging it up. It took a few minutes, but what Dustcloud dug up, shocked even _him_.

By then, Darkfire had appeared beside her, and was studiously examining the scrap of fur dangling from her mouth.

It appeared to be a kit.

A pitiful, pathetic scrap of grey fur.

But despite its half-frozen appearance, Darkfire knew that it still lived.

"Can we take him back, Darkfire?" Dustcloud mumbled around the kit.

Darkfire considered it for a moment. He knew that if they were to take this half-dead kit back with us, then there'd be consequences, grave ones.

But if they _didn't_ take it back?

What then?

Would Darkfire be ostracised by the Clan for leaving a helpless kit behind?

After pondering for awhile, he finally mewed, "Yes. We'll take it back, but if Fernstar asks, then it was your idea."

"Of course," Dustcloud immediately mewed. "I'll take full responsibility."

"Very well," Darkfire rumbled. "Let's head back, this cold is driving me crazy."

Breezefur mewed in agreement while his sister remained silent.

Darkfire sighed, enjoying the rare silence while it lasted. He knew that it would disappear as soon as they arrived at camp. And true to his word, it did.

As soon as some of his Clanmates caught sight of the scrap of fur dangling from Dustcloud's jaws, there was an immediate uproar. But as quickly as it had come, it had disappeared with the sound of Fernstar's forceful voice.

The ThunderClan leader herself seemed to _materialise_ in front of Darkfire, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from flinching.

From the first time she had arrived in ThunderClan, Fernstar had been immature and needy to the point of being insufferable. When she had been an apprentice, Darkfire had just barely been able to tolerate her. But after a near-death experience with an adder, Fernstar mellowed out, gaining her mate, Brightfeather's love in the process. When she became a warrior, Darkfire was grudgingly impressed at her fiery, hot-headed persona.

Then, Silverflame had been killed, and just barely a warrior herself, Fernstar had been appointed the deputyship of ThunderClan. Darkfire had watched as she was seemingly at a loss for words at Froststar's exclamation. But she swore to serve her Clan to the fullest, and she did, becoming leader shortly after.

Darkfire gazed at the ThunderClan leader as if he'd never seen her in his life. She was pretty, but not _beautiful_. Lithe muscles rippled underneath her dark ginger pelt, and as he lifted his gaze to her face, he felt a shudder rumble through me.

Fernstar was truly a sight to behold. The tips of her tapered ears were shredded, and on her face, two ghastly looking scars parted soft fur, cutting through her left eye. Her eyes were green, but while her right eye was vibrant and clear, her left one was cloudy like glass.

Blind.

Darkfire blinked when he saw Fernstar's mouth move.

"Could you repeat that?" He mumbled, his tone weary.

Fernstar shot him a sharp look before mewing, "Where did you find that kit?"

"... in the snow," Darkfire murmured, already tired of this conversation.

Honestly, couldn't Fernstar have chosen someone _else_ for her deputy instead of _him_?

He was hardly suited for the job, and at this point, he now understood Foxheart, a previous deputy's reluctance.

Like him, Darkfire never wanted to be deputy, but in order to properly serve the Clan, he _had_ to be.

So for now, he would have to deal with it.

Fernstar suddenly sighed, sounding just as weary as Darkfire currently felt.

"Fine then," she murmured. "ThunderClan will take this kit in, _regardless_ of his origins."

Her words were like steel, and Darkfire found himself grudgingly impressed. Fernstar was a good leader despite being so young, even more so than the previous leader, Froststar.

ThunderClan looked as if they wanted to protest, but all it took was one glare from Fernstar's half-blind eyes before they went silent.

Darkfire suppressed a snort, and indicated for Dustcloud to follow him. The golden she-cat complied, striding behind him purposefully.

When Darkfire entered the nursery, he encountered Fernstar's three moon old daughter: Rosekit.

Rosekit gazed at him curiously, her big green eyes wide and wary as she took in the new arrival's form.

"Move," Darkfire rumbled.

Rosekit just stared back up at him fierce eyes, and wordlessly, she stepped to the side.

Darkfire thanked her with a silent nod and made a beeline to Blackwing who was miraculously awake.

"Darkfire?" She mumbled, cracking open light green eyes. "What are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to ask you a favour," he replied shortly.

Blackwing then regarded him with interest, and while gesturing to Dustcloud, he mewed, "I want you to nurse him. Can you do that?"

Blackwing's curious gaze quickly turned to one of disgust, and she exclaimed, "No _way_, Darkfire! Besides, I don't have any milk left to spare, Rainkit and Mistkit need it more than some rogue!"

Darkfire sighed, he knew that it would come to this, and there was only one option left, and it was one he was dreading.

There was only Leafstorm left, and Darkfire wasn't sure if she would accept the little kit as her own.

But he had to try, if he didn't, then the kit would starve to death, if his thinness was anything to go by.

Darkfire padded toward Leafstorm who regarded him with weary, tired eyes. "What do you want?" She snapped.

"I want you to nurse this kit," Darkfire said bluntly.

The ginger she-cat's eyes flew to the kit dangling from Dustcloud's jaws. Gradually, her hardened eyes began to soften, and she said tiredly, "Put him at my belly, Dustcloud."

Darkfire didn't know if it was Dustcloud who had gotten the usually cold Leafstorm to relent, but at this moment, he couldn't care less.

Darkfire watched in interest as Dustcloud carefully placed the little kit in between Leafstorm's own slumbering kits. He knew that Leafstorm's own kits were barely a half-moon old, and that they hadn't opened their eyes yet, so he pin-pointed the age of the male to be just that: half a moon old.

"Will you name him?" Darkfire mewed, gazing at Leafstorm.

Said cat merely scoffed, shaking her head. "Don't be ridiculous, Darkfire, he can tell us when he wakes."

He nodded accepting her excuse, because he knew that deep down, this kit would do something horrendous.

His presence here in ThunderClan could make it...

Or break it.


	2. Chapter One- Power

**Well, I hope you liked the first chapter and that you aren't confused. **

**Also, this story will have a slow build, even more slower than **_**Leaves in the Wind.**_

**Enjoy another chapter of **_**Fading Light.**_

**. . .**

**Rosekit**

"Look, Mistkit, Stormkit's opened his eyes!"

At the sound of the younger kits' cries, Rosekit blearily blinked open groggy eyes, all the while snuggling into her mother's side. Fernstar welcomed her by coiling her tail tightly around her small body.

Rosekit rolled her eyes slightly when she heard Mistkit's answering scoff, but eventually, the world around her faded as her mind slipped into nothingness.

The next time Rosekit woke, it was to any icy cold nest and the feel of her mother's dwindling warmth. She frowned slightly, but gradually accepted it. Her mother was the leader of ThunderClan, and she had other duties to perform. This meant that Fernstar couldn't be there all the time, and Rosekit had accepted that fact long ago.

The white she-cat stretched before beginning her morning wash, and it was by that time that something large and _uncoordinated_ rammed into her, sending her toppling to the side.

Blinking away painful tears, Rosekit glared down at the kit who had knocked her down with fierce eyes. The kit in question didn't even flinch, and looked right back at her with unfathomable blue eyes that, for some reason or other, held a strange reddish tint; like blood.

"Watch where you walk!" Rosekit finally snapped.

The kit blinked, but his expression never wavered, and Rosekit finally got a good look at him. His fur was downy and soft to the touch, bearing a grey, ashy colour that, for some reason, took on a bluish tint just when the sunlight hit it.

_Wait... Stormkit!_

"You should go back to your mother, Stormkit," she mewed, feeling slightly foolish, after all, Stormkit _wasn't_ stupid, she _knew_ that he could understand her perfectly well. But still, at four moons, Rosekit was the oldest in the nursery, with the youngest being her aunt, Leafstorm's kits.

Leafstorm's kits were only a half-moon old, and Stormkit had been the only one to have opened his eyes already.

_Wait..._

Suddenly, Rosekit remembered last night's events all too well.

Darkfire, the ThunderClan deputy, had barged into the nursery with a warrior called Dustcloud behind him. Dangling from Dustcloud's jaws, had been a ball of shivering grey fur: a tiny kit, as young as Leafstorm's own ones.

Abruptly, Rosekit felt a wave of elation run through her.

_I'll go and see him right now!_

With that thought in mind, Rosekit practically _scampered_ over to Leafstorm's still form, and as soon as she reached her aunt's side, her ginger head snapped up.

Leafstorm's expression was cold at first, but when she registered that it was only Rosekit, her eyes somewhat softened.

"Rosekit," Leafstorm mewed tiredly. "What is it?"

"I want to see the kit that Darkfire brought in last night!" Rosekit piped.

Leafstorm sighed, but gestured to her belly with her tail, her green eyes resigned.

With her aunt's permission, Rosekit crouched beside the little kits, her belly pressed to the ground. She found the little grey one easily enough, and without any restraint whatsoever, she nosed it on top of its head.

_That_ woke him up, and the next thing Rosekit knew, she was gazing into unsettling amber eyes that seemed to stare into her very soul itself.

"Who are _you_...?"

Rosekit didn't realise that the kit had spoken until she had heard the words out of his moving mouth, and even then, she couldn't help with what escaped her.

"I'm Rosekit," she chirped cheerfully. "The daughter of Fernstar!"

The kit was silent for a minute, before muttering, "... foolish."

Rosekit blinked, her mouth falling open. "I'm sorry," she mewed. "_What_?"

The kit regarded her in silence, his eyes like hardened chips of ice. "You're foolish," he growled coldly.

"Why am I foolish?" Rosekit persisted, her eyes wide and fierce.

"You shouldn't tell me your name," the kit finally replied. "You never know who could be an enemy or not."

Suddenly, the kit was grasped by the scruff of his neck and raised into the air. Rosekit watched in awe as Leafstorm's cold gaze pinned the struggling kit down.

And Rosekit couldn't help but wince in sympathy when the little mass of grey fur went limp dejectedly. The kit appeared to be half-starved and the dampness of his pelt wasn't doing any wonders for him, either.

"What's your name?!" Leafstorm growled, her eyes the coldest that Rosekit had seen them.

When the kit remained stubbornly silent, Leafstorm growled in frusttration, shaking his little form.

"_Tell me your name!_" She exclaimed.

"_Fine!_" The kit snapped, his remarkable amber eyes wide and wary. "You can call me Dusk."

"Dusk?" Leafstorm paused, then she set the kit back to the ground. "Are you a loner, then?"

"... a loner?" Dusk repeated. "I don't know what that is."

"It means that you're all alone and have no Clan to go to," Rosekit piped up.

"Clan?" Dusk inquired, suddenly looking curious, if the somewhat greedy look in his eyes was something to go by.

"ThunderClan," Rosekit quipped. "There are four Clans: ThunderClan, WindClan, RiverClan and ShadowClan."

Rosekit didn't miss the way that Leafstorm growled at the mention of ShadowClan, nor the way that the ginger she-cat's shoulders tensed.

"And this is ThunderClan?" Dusk mewed, coiling an ashy tail around his tiny paws.

Rosekit nodded absently, then she yawned, her eyes beginning to droop.

"You should go back to sleep, Rosekit," Leafstorm said seriously. "You were up very late last night."

Rosekit nodded in agreement; she'd only just woken up but she couldn't help but feel exhausted. Obediently, she curled up at Leafstorm's side, pressing comfortably into her aunt's warmth.

That cold leaf bare day, Rosekit dreamt.

She dreamt of a sunny field, of butterflies and sunshine.

And in the middle of it all stood a young tom.

His coat was pitch-black and shined with the brilliance of the stars, and his blue eyes glittered with the wisdom of ages gone by.

But his mere presence seemed to suck the life out of the beatiful field, and for a moment, Rosekit could have sworn that his eyes glimmered gold for a split-second of a second.

"W-Who _are_ you?" Rosekit could not help the fear that choked her, and her paws began to tremble with the weight of her entire body.

The cat didn't reply, merely padding toward her.

"I have a message," he mewed softly, cutting her off.

"No," Rosekit said boldly. "Tell me who you are!"

"So stubborn," the cat murmured. "Fine. I'll tell you. My name is Breezefeather, and _I_ have a message."

_Breezefeather_. Why did that name sound so familiar?

"What's the message?" Rosekit choked, fear oozing into every word.

She now knew that Breezefeather was a cat to _not_ be trifled with.

"For there to be victory over darkness, new allies and bonds will be formed. Through the dreaded return of the Storm, Dusk will fall, and there will be a Frost as vicious and cold as the Breeze itself. Among the darkness of Silver and shadows, a Rose shall blossom. They will come together as Four and rock the forest to its very roots."

Rosekit blinked at the strange message. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Breezefeather remained silent, and Rosekit was startled when she felt a nose brush against hers.

The black cat's eyes glowed gold, and Rosekit tried in vain to get away, but everything she tried was thwarted by the strange glittering cat in front of her.

"I entrust the remainder of Her power to you," Breezefeather murmured.

Rosekit felt fire scorch her fur, and she yowled, scrapping at her face with her paws. Her sharpened claws left faint scratches in their wake, and they stung like ants.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Breezefeather took a step back, observing her with curious eyes, his golden eyes bleeding into icy blue.

Rosekit gazed up at him with wide, pain-filled eyes.

Her lip trembled and her green eyes washed with unshed tears.

"You the power wisely," Breezefeather mewed simply. "For it is not infinite, and it _will_ run out."

And then he was gone.

Rosekit felt everything slip away, even as the fire roaring inside her didn't ebb.

**Stormkit**

Stormkit blinked his eyes open, a sudden rush of unknown emotions filling him to the brim.

He didn't know what it meant, and he didn't want to know.

Stormkit was sure that wanting to rip his sister to shreds wasn't healthy, but he couldn't _not_ stop from feeling these foreign feelings.

_What does it mean?_ He wondered. _Mother told us a story once, and she said that what I felt was something called 'anger'. Is what she said true? Is what I'm feeling anger?_

Stormkit sighed, feeling irrationally weighed down, and he didn't know why.

He then looked around in wonder; he'd seen it all before, of course. But he couldn't help but let his excitement ebb away his ever present anger. Stormkit had been feeling angrier than normal, and it had only esculated when he had felt a foreign warmth invade his nest.

But even so, Stormkit thought that it was positively _wonderfull_ to see everything in colour for the second time in his abysmally short life.

Stormkit took the time to look around in wonder, then his eyes came to rest on a strange looking cat that he'd seen only once.

_Rosekit._

From the time that he had been born, Rosekit had been a constant in his life, and everything about the she-cat lying near him positively _screamed_ that it was Rosekit.

But Stormkit didn't notice the changes until she'd woken up.

Rosekit yawned, giving him a show of her razor-sharp kit teeth.

She closed her jaws and Stormkit was able to see that it wasn't the same kit that he'd seen the night before.

Rosekit had undergone changes overnight, it seemed.

For one, there was a strange streak of silver over her snow-white pelt, and there seemed to be small glimmers of gold present in her fierce green.

Stormkit hadn't noticed that when he had seen her the night before.

His anger flared slightly when the white she-cat brushed past him without a word, heading for the entrance, and it bubled in the pit of his stomach.

Stormkit sighed heavily when his cousin was out of sight, and he sank to his belly.

"I'm so _bored_," he growled, his ever present anger creeping into his voice. He peered up at his mother with keen blue eyes, pawing at the kit that had arrived the night before.

The kit hissed in derision, amber eyes snapping open to glare at him coldly. "Don't touch me," the kit hissed venomously.

Stormkit growled in return, his belly churning. "Who _are_ you?"

The kit's eyes flashed in warning before he sourly grumbled, "... Dusk."

Stormkit huffed. "Whatever."

The kit, _Dusk_ didn't reply.

Stormkit turned his sour gaze onto his slumbering sister, and then something inside of him softened at the sight, his horrible anger seemingly dissolving to nothing.

He gently licked the top of his tiny sister's head.

Nightkit shifted in discomfort, stirring and lifting her head tiredly. Though his sister could talk already, her eyes still hadn't opened. To this day, they remained tightly squeezed shut.

"Ugh... Stormkit, _stop_..." she muttered.

If Nightkit's eyes were opened, Stormkit was sure that she would be glaring at him. Unexpectedly, a wave of fondness consumed him, and he blinked at the foreign emotion.

Stormkit decided that he didn't like it.

Not one bit.

Suddenly, Nightkit's ears pricked upwards, and she curiously sniffed the air. Her face scrunched up, and Stormkit thought that she was doing it subconsciously.

"Who is that near me?" Her voice was deathly quiet, though it trembled near the end.

Nightkit was scared.

"Open your eyes then," Stormkit could not help but mew snidely.

His anger had returned, and it was rolling around his body like boiling waves.

Nightkit stiffened, and for a moment, Stormkit was sure that she was going to throw a tantrum.

Then suddenly, her eyelids began to flicker, and then-

Her eyes snapped open.


	3. Chapter Two- Vision

**I'm really sorry that I took so long, it won't happen again.**

**So, enjoy!**

**. . .**

**Nightkit**

Ever so slowly, her eyes flickered open.

The world around her was blurry and distorted, but the milky scent of her mother filled her nose.

Nightkit grinned, flickering her clearing gaze around the nursery.

_Amazing._

Compared to her tiny figure, the nursery was _huge. _The other cats around her seemed like _giants._

"Nightkit?"

The sound of her name made her look up, and for the first time in her short life, Nightkit was shocked into silence.

The cat in front of her looked as young as her, but he was just so _big_. Nightkit supposed that the top of her head only reached the bottom of his shoulders.

He looked big enough to be one of those..._apprentices _that she had heard her Mother speak of.

But even so, he hadn't yet shed his kit fur, and it looked as fluffy as a grey stormcloud- not that Nightkit really _knew _what a stormcloud was.

"_Nightkit_," the other kit repeated, though a bit more firmly.

"Huh- _oh_!" Nightkit broke off, blinked, then felt the tips of her ears burn. "Yes?"

The other kit smiled a crooked smile, and it showed his baby kit teeth that Nightkit knew would be razor-sharp.

"Do you know who I am?"

Nightkit looked back at him, finding her surprised and confused face reflected back at her from the recesses of his dark blue eyes.

"Uh, no?" She tried, feeling as puzzled as she looked. "Do I have to?"

The kit made a frustrated growling noise in the back of his throat, and he snapped, "Do you know my _scent_, then?!"

Nightkit just stared back at him, and when a sneer gradually began to curl his lips, she hesitantly raised her head and took a cautious sniff.

Almost at once, scents that she had never known existed permeated into her nose.

The milky scent of her Mother was the most prominent, but she could detect a faint wiff of something under it: a tantalising scent of fresh rainfall and earth. It occurred to Nightkit that this was what her Mother truly smelt like.

Nightkit then detected something else that was familiar, as well.

That is, the scent of fresh earth and milk.

It was an odd combination, but it suited the kit, Nightkit supposed.

_Wait... I know that smell! _Nightkit realised.

"Is that you, Stormkit?" She whispered, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice, and she knew had failed by the way that her brother had sneered at her annoyance.

"Who do you think?" He snapped irately, a great undercurrent of anger lacing his tone. "And it's about time that you opened your eyes, too!"

Nightkit shook off her frustration to her brother by grinning impishly. "I heard you talking to Rosekit earlier, Stormkit, so apparently, _your _eyes haven't been open for that long, _either_!"

Stormkit scowled, anger and annoyance plain on his face. "Whatever," he grumbled, sounding rather out of it.

Nightkit blinked. "You okay, Stormkit?" She mewed in concern, raising a tiny paw towards him.

Stormkit hissed at the offending paw, but after a few moments, he seemed to have calmed down, even if only by a little.

"Sorry," the grey kit sighed. "Sometimes I just can't help with what I feel."

"What does _that _mean?" Nightkit pondered out loud.

"What do you _think_?" Stormkit retorted in annoyance.

Her brother's bright eyes were practically _seething _as they pierced her own eyes. Nightkit shivered at the irritation radiating off him in waves.

"Do you always feel like this?" She whispered, and for a single moment, it was just her and Stormkit in the nursery.

She couldn't see the other kits _or _their Mothers.

It was just her and her brother.

Nightkit was glad for that, and for that single moment, her boisterous personailty was gone and replaced by something more cold.

More solemn.

Cautiously, Nightkit closed the distance between them on her still shaking kit-paws and rested her head on Stormkit's chest.

Surprisingly, a moment later, a purr rumbled through her brother's throat.

The two kits stayed that way for a while longer before Stormkit gently pushed her away.

Nightkit blinked blearily for a moment before a cheerful smile found its way onto her lips.

"Hey, Stormkit," she mewed. "What do I look like?"

Her brother didn't hesitate. "Your pelt is as dark as the sky outside," he murmured. "And your eyes are... _blue_?"

Nightkit giggled a little. "That sounded more like a question," she purred. "So I'll just ask someone who _knows_."

Stormkit grumbled a little but he didn't object.

As she approached her Mother, Nightkit glared at the offending kit pressed in the furthest corner. She sighed, deciding not to dwell on the fact that an unfamiliar kit would now be sharing the warmth of _her _Mother.

Luckily for Nightkit, Leafstorm was awake.

Nightkit went right up to her face, her smile becoming _killowatt _in intensity.

"Mama!" She exclaimed. "Look! My eyes opened!"

Leafstorm purred, moving foreward and gently licking her ears. "They have," her Mother purred. "Wait 'till your Father sees you."

Nightkit purred in return, her smile never dimming. "Where is he?!" She demanded excitedly. "I wanna see what _he _looks like!"

"He's gone out hunting," Leafstorm answered in amusement. "But I know that he'll be happy to see you when he gets back."

Nightkit nearly pouted, but she restrained it at the sight of the evil look that the _Outsider_, Dusk, was giving her.

So she just settled for being silent at her Mother's side, and finally, after what seemed like _hours_, her father entered the nursery.

Ashfall smiled coolly and calmly as Nightkit practically _tackled _him.

"Nightkit," her Father greeted her with a fond lick to the top of her head.

Nightkit purred in return, pressing her tiny body against his legs. "Where were you, Daddy?"

Her eyes lit up when her Father smiled that soft, gentle smile of his that he seemed to reserve for the closest members of his family.

"I was out hunting," Ashfall answered softly, and with a thrill, Nightkit realised that she could _see _him.

"Look, Daddy!" She exclaimed, gesturing to herself with her tail. "My eyes are open!"

"I noticed," he commented rather dryly.

Nightkit merely grinned up at him, then looked down at her paws.

They were jet-black, the same colour as her Father's pelt.

Ashfall's eyes were blue, as well.

"You're pretty, Daddy," Nightkit chirped after a moment.

"Is that so," Ashfall returned casually, a smirk tugging on his lips.

"Yeah!"

Her Father's smirk softened into his customary gentle smile, and he playfully swept his tail of her head, ruffling her ears as it went.

Nightkit let out a startled yelp and dropped to the ground, pressing her belly defensively into the floor.

Her Father laughed softly.

Her ears pricked upwards, an interested expression coming to her face.

Nightkit had never heard her Father laugh before, and she found that she liked.

"Laugh louder, Daddy!" She demanded, her still blue eyes wide.

All at once, Ashfall stopped laughing, and a somewhat tormented expression crossed his face.

But before Nightkit could analyze it fully, it faded away to be replaced by a large smirk.

"You like my laugh, Nightkit?" He drawled, his smirk widening as she nodded.

Abruptly, his smirk faded to be replaced by a cold look that Nightkit had never seen.

"Daddy?" Nightkit questioned softly, inwardly wondering if he was upset with her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"That's his normal look," an unfamiliar voice suddenly drawled.

**Leafstorm**

Leafstorm watched the scene between her daughter and mate with grim satisfaction.

It had been a long time since she could just sit back and relax since the birth of her kits, but she found that she simply _couldn't _relax.

Flicking her bright green gaze around the nursery, she could make out the large form of her half-moon old son, Stormkit, sitting on the sidelines and watching the entire proceedings with a sullen frown on his face.

Leafstorm had half a mind to approach her son and _force _him to play if he was so unhappy, but when she remembered her _own _kithood, her mind quickly backtracked.

While Leafstorm hadn't had the presence of her Father while growing up, she had still had her sister and her Mother.

_Thorntail._

At the mere mention of the ShadowClan warrior, Leafstorm sneered.

She held such disgust for Thorntail.

Disgust for abandoning her Mother.

Disgust for abandoning _Them_.

And disgust for _killing _her.

_I __**hate **__him! _Leafstorm realised.

And there was also her disgust at being half-Clan.

Half _ShadowClan._

Added to the fact that her _kits _possessed ShadowClan blood.

Leafstorm didn't want her son to grow up feeling like that.

So without further ado, Leafstorm left the comforting warmth of her bed of moss and padded toward her son, casually plopping herself beside him.

If Stormkit was bothered by the sudden proximity, he didn't show it.

"Mama," he greeted blandly, his dark blue eyes glimmering in the gloomy darkness of the nursery.

"Why aren't you playing with your sister?" Leafstorm mewed, skipping straight to the topic at hand.

"Because she's playing with Daddy and I don't want to intrude," Stormkit replied softly, casting a hesitant look to his Father and sister.

Her heart immediately swelled at those words, and Leafstorm showered her son's face in licks, murmuring, "Oh, Stormkit, _never _think that. _Never_. Do you understand?"

When Stormkit reluctantly nodded, Leafstorm gave him one last lick before straightening herself, her tail delicately coiling around her fiery red paws.

Suddenly, Leafstorm heard her daughter intone, "Daddy, why are you looking at me like that?"

She immediately glanced toward her mate, and when she saw nothing was amiss with his expression, she visibly relaxed.

Ashfall's expression was its usual closed off, cold one, and though the birth of his kits had softened it, there was no mistaking it.

"That his normal look," a _very _familiar voice drawled.

When Leafstorm saw who it was, she sneered.

There was no mistaking it.

She could easily recognise the snow-white pelt and the cold, aloof crystalline blue eyes of her sister's mate, Brightfeather.

If there was anyone that Leafstorm hated the most in ThunderClan, than it had to be _him_.

Brightfeather sneered in return, his gem-like eyes emitting disgust as he glared back at her.

Nightkit, however, blinked up at the white warrior with innocent curiousity. "Who are _you_?" She mewed, her eyes wide and large. "You're the first male cat besides Daddy and my brother that I've met so far."

Not for the first time, Leafstorm marvelled at how cheerful her little daughter was.

_Nightfrost._

Leafstorm remembered the dream that she had had so many moons ago, and not for the first time, she wondered what could be the catalyst for that cat's shy, cold, and withdrawn personality.

Leafstorm didn't want to know.

Scarily, Brightfeather's expression softened minutely, and he grunted, "Brightfeather."

Nightkit grinned. "Cool! Hi, Brightfeather! I'm Nightkit, nice to meet you!"

Brightfeather's gaze shifted to Ashfall's, and the white warrior smirked. "Nice kits you've got there, Ashfall, this is the first time I've seen them," his voice dropped to a hateful murmur, "Leafstorm, then?"

In an uncharacteristic act of embarrassment, Ashfall ducked his head, but after a moment, he raised it again, and he _didn't _look embarrassed. No, because after a moment, he emitted a soft chuckle.

"Yes," he murmured, "Leafstorm."

For a moment, Leafstorm resisted the urge to nuzzle him, box him over the ears, and everything at once.

Instead, she mewed, "Don't cause a scene in front of my kits, Brightfeather."

The white warrior merely scoffed. "Don't be a mouse-brain," he sneered. "I only came to have a look at ThunderClan's newest _member_."

"Who _I _have to feed," Leafstorm retorted sourly, glaring at him coldly. "And I'm not even sure if I have enough milk for _my _kits."

"Well," Brightfeather stated with a smirk. "Then I'm glad that Rosekit is starting to get off of Fernstar's milk since she has so little left. But there's also hardly enough prey to feed then entire Clan, let alone _kits_."

_Yet __**another **__reason why I hate Brightfeather so much_, Leafstorm thought scathingly.

She glared at the white warrior viciously, and for a split second, she felt like it that flame-coloured kit that had entered ThunderClan with an awe-struck expression all those seasons ago.

"Speaking of Rosekit," Leafstorm mewed. "Where _is _she?"

"I saw her go out before," her son suddenly stated.

Leafstorm gazed down at her too large son, and suddenly, she was struck by an image.

A massive cat, his face in shadow, red eyes gleaming...

Leafstorm shook her head furiously to dispell the image.

Stormkit directed her a strange look, but he didn't comment on her actions.

Leafstorm wondered what that was all about.

_What does it mean...?_

**Fernstar**

Fernstar knew that it was late, but she didn't particularly care.

She outside her den, head raised to the sky.

She gazed at Silverpelt, and she thought, _Are you up there, Rosestream?_

As if in reply, her Mother's sweet scent wreathed around her, and Fernstar mourned times long past.

Times where she and her sister only had to worry for their next meal.

Times when Rosestream still lived.

But Fernstar knew that, when she lost all nine of her lives, then she would depart for StarClan and join her Clanmates in the stars.

"Mama?"

Fernstar turned quickly, and a soft, tender smile crossed her face at the sight of her daughter, Rosekit. But then that smile twisted into a frown, and-

"_What _are you doing out here in the cold like this, Rosekit?" She scolded, her mismatched eyes wide.

Rosekit didn't shrink back at her ire, though, and Fermstar could easily see how much of Brightfeather was in her.

Could see her nearly grown daughter in her mind's eye.

Rosekit would be beautiful, and she already _was._

Her snow-white pelt was thick and glossy with tinges of silver here and there, and her eyes were her most admiring feature.

Bright green with hints of gold.

Like a leaf shrouded in sunlight.

Despite her daughter's protests, Fernstar smoothed down her fur with a few licks.

"What did you need, little one?" Fernstar spoke gently, despite the fact that her daughter was already four moons old and didn't need to be coddled.

"I had a dream!" Rosekit declared, her eyes wide and passionate. "And I _know _that StarClan sent it becuase this cat called Breezefeather appeared in it!"

Fernstar, meanwhile, was in a state of shock that couldn't be cured by normal means.

"Breezefeather, you say?" She breathed in a tone of finality.

"Yeah!" Her daughter confirmed.

Fernstar felt horror dawn on her, and her heart skipped a beat.

She felt a sour taste fill her mouth as she mouthed the word.

_Breezefeather..._

_I was the one to kill him!_

And Fernstar had been forced to as he had an evil being trapped inside him.

_Silverbreeze._

Fernstar was sure that Rosekit now possessed the remnants of Silverbreeze's power inside her, and that her brother had been the one to give it to her.

But why?

Just _why _would Breezefeather infuse Silverbreeze's essence inside of Rosekit?

Just _what _was to be gained from such an act?

Fernstar knew at once, and she knew the moment she had laid eyes on her daughter this very night.

_Shroud still lives._

It was a frightening thought, indeed.


	4. Chapter Three- Punishment

**I'm going to try and do an update every time I finish, but since I have another story I'm working on, I can't really promise anything.**

**. . .**

**Dusk**

Dusk didn't like the predicament he was in.

He had run away to be _free._

But now, it seems that he wasn't anymore.

He had been captured, and not just by anyone.

He had been captured by _ThunderClan._

_Of all the places_, Dusk thought scathingly.

He looked down at his paws, and he felt an irritational anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. But he smothered it before it could grow.

He had no right to feel angry.

No right _at all._

"No right," Dusk muttered out loud, fixing his amber eyes on his ashy-grey paws.

Those paws were tinged with spots of the barest silver, barely noticeable.

It was the only beautiful feature of his body.

The rest of it was ugly, patchy, and faded.

Dusk hated himself.

He hated himself _so _much.

He had hated himself the first moment he had spoken against his Father, and in doing so, he was punishing himself.

Dusk thought it was a _very _appropriate punishment.

He was still young, though, and he had _many _moons ahead if he wished to exact his punishment.

To destroy ThunderClan as the other cats knew it.

Then his Mother and Father would rule the forest.

He was still too young.

He would need training, and as far as he knew, the leader of the Clan had accepted him without any qualms.

Dusk would be ready.

"I _have _to be," he whispered against his paws.

**Crowbreeze**

Crowbreeze yawned widely, exposing his jaws.

He blinked bleary blue eyes in his mate's direction, eyeing her swollen belly.

Runningstream was due to give birth any day now, and he thought that she looked radiant with her big belly.

"Aee you excited?" He mewed, and even though it had been moons since his talk with Sharpstar, he still didn't really understand the concept of "feelings".

Crowbreeze knew that he loved Runningstream, yes, but he didn't know exactly how _much._

He still found it hard to comprehend feelings such as love and happiness.

When he was a kit, he had never been accepted into ShadowClan because he had been a supposed "Kittypet".

He _still _wasn't really accepted in ShadowClan.

But he would _try _to feel.

If not for his sake, then for the sake of Runningstream and his unborn kits.

Runningstream looked up when his voice sounded, and she mewed, "'Course I'm excited, just not from the pain!"

Crowbreeze cracked a somewhat sarcastic smile, but it faded rather quickly when Runningstream began to wince, her eyes screwed up in pain.

Alarm shot through him as his mate let out a soft gasp.

"C-Crowbreeze," she gasped. "I-I think the kits are coming!"

"Fox dung," Crowbreeze cursed softly, blue eyes wide. He quickly turned in a circle, and when he caught sight of the old medicine cat, he yowled, "Runningstream's kits are coming!"

The medicine cat, Rowanheart, shot up and approached them as fast as the swiftest fox.

"Get her to my den quickly," he ordered.

Crowbreeze wasted no time in doing as he said, and he grabbed his mate by the scruff and began to gently drag her to Rowanheart's den.

A few seconds later, Runningstream was nestled safely on a bed of soft moss, her sides heaving heavily.

Rowanheart was on her in a second, barking instructions.

"Push, Runningstream," the brown tom instructed.

"Don't you see I'm trying?!" Runningstream demanded, then she screwed her amber eyes up in pain as a bundle began to gradually slip out onto the nursery ground.

Crowbreeze blinked when the bundle was abruptly placed at his paws.

"What do I do with it?" He asked in confusion.

"Lick its fur backwards!" Rowanheart snapped.

Crowbreeze did as the elderly cat bid, and licked the blood off, grimacing at the putrid taste that it left on his tongue.

The kit mewled in protest as he gently nosed it towards Runningstream. The kit immediately pawed its way through soft fur and began to suckle.

A few minutes later, Crowbreeze was the proud Father of three kits.

Runningstream was panting harshly, and she mewed, "I _never _want to do that again."

Crowbreeze licked her ears soothingly, murmuring, "What are their names?"

His mate shrugged. "I don't know. What do _you _want to name them, Crowbreeze?"

"What gender are they?" Crowbreeze asked, looking at Rowanheart.

"One tom and two she-cats," the medicine cat responded.

Crowbreeze didn't need to think, because a few seconds after that announcement, the perfect name sprung into his mind.

"Call the tom Featherkit," he murmured.

The newly named Featherkit was snow-white in colour, and his pelt possessed hundreds of black speckles.

_Like his Mother_, Crowbreeze thought fondly.

Runningstream smiled faintly. "Featherkit, huh? I like it."

She looked at the other kits, and Crowbreeze found himself doing the same.

One she-cat was completely jet-black in colour. The only variant being that her tiny paws were as white as snow.

"I think we should call her Snowkit," Runningstream said with a grin. "Then when she becomes a warrior, her name can be Snowfoot!"

"Snowkit, then," the black-furred warrior agreed.

The last kit was snow-white in colour with a masklike pattern on her face that was completely jet-black.

"Call her Foxkit," Runningstream joked. "The pattern on her face makes her look mischevious!"

"Fine," Crowbreeze agreed evenly.

And so he had his kits.

He was proud.

But most of all, he was _happy_.

**Stormkit**

Stormkit was angry again.

But it didn't really matter all that much, considering that he was angry almost the entire time he was awake, and even in his slumber his constant anger would haunt him, tormenting him with vicous nightmares of cats he had never met and places he had never ventured.

Stormkit thought he was going crazy.

Ever since his Mother had nearly lost it the previous night, she had begun to watch him like a hawk.

_That _alone drove him crazy, though Stormkit wasn't in any position to deny feeling uncomfortable at the blatant _Motherism _his Mother was showing.

It was as if some sort of long lost maternal instict had been awakened within Leafstorm.

"You okay, Stormkit?" His sister questioned, sitting beside him, her tiny body completely dwarfed by his massive form.

It still astounded Stormkit that his sister was some tiny little... _thing_.

Nightkit was so small, and a foreign emotion that Stormkit vaguely recpgnised as worry washed over him.

Stormkit decided that he didn't like that emotion.

In fact, he didn't like a lot of things, and emotions was one of them.

He mused that he was a lot like his Father in that aspect.

Ashfall was a very cold cat, and he struggled- he really did- to show emotions to his own _family _instead of drawing into his cocoon of steel.

And besides the fact that he hated emotions, he also liked asking questions.

In his short life, Stormkit had asked a lot of questions, but one, to this day, his Mother had refused to answer.

Stormkit had been nestled to Leafstorm's side, his eyes unopened and his limbs weak, but he had been _alert._

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for his sister.

Stormkit had pressed into his Mother's warmth, inhaling her customary scent of rainfall and milk.

"Mama," he had sleepily murmured. "Who's Stormflight?"

Leafstorm had stiffened, and when she hadn't replied, Stormkit had honestly thought that he had been in trouble.

Then, he had felt a gentle lick on his ears, and Leafstorm had quietly mewed, "He was an amazing cat, and he held on until the very end. He was my best friend, Stormkit, and I loved him very much."

Stormkit had noticed the way that his Mother had spoken in past tense, but decided not to question her.

Instead, Stormkit had said, "Did you love him the way you love Daddy, Mama?"

Leafstorm had been silent for a long time, until she finally replied, "Once I did, and it was a very long time ago. Now, no more questions. So go to sleep now, little one."

And that had been the end of _that._

Now, Leafstorm was tightlipped around the entire matter and refused to answer his questions, no matter _how _many times he had asked.

Stormkit knew that it was going to remain that way until the day she died.

Which wouldn't happen any time soon, admittedly.

Despite the various scars that criss-crossed her fiery red pelt, Leafstorm was a _very _pretty cat.

It wasn't really hard to see how Ashfall had fallen in love with her.

But Stormkit had been born witness to her rather _lovely _personality.

Leafstorm was a very cold cat, and like Ashfall, she wasn't one for smiles.

She was the complete opposite of her sister, the ThunderClan leader, Fernstar.

Fernstar smiled constantly, and it was very easy to see that she loved her Clan with her whole heart and soul.

And yet, it was still very strange how she had fallen for the aloof and cold Brightfeather.

The white warrior was frightening in every way, what with his cold, prickly demeanour and aloof attitude.

And still, the pair were so very much in love that it was almost _sickening _to see how much they loved each other.

Stormkit hoped he wouldn't end up like that.

_I'd be a fool if I did_, he thought darkly, _love is a weakness._

Yes.

Love was the greatest weakness.

And also his greatest mistake.


	5. Chapter Four- Illness

**Thanks for whoever reviewed, they're much appreciated.**

**Anyway, here's another chapter.**

**. . .**

**Nightkit**

She was cold.

That was Nightkit's first thought as she woke up.

Not even the warmth of her Mother could ebb away the icy coldness in her fur.

Nightkit sneezed.

The sound echoed around the tall brambles of the nursery.

She flinched, pressing further into the warmth of her brother and her Mother.

It didn't do anything.

Nightkit drifted.

The next thing she knew, she was being nudged awake by a cold nose.

She blinked blearily and groggily raised her head.

"What?" Her voice had faded to a weak rasp.

Stormkit sat in front of her, reddish-blue eyes narrowed.

"You look horrible, Nightkit," he mewed.

Nightkit did her best to reply, "W-Where's... Mama...?"

Her brother shot a dismissive glance toward the nursery entrance, then back at her.

He raised a single light, ashy-grey paw and pressed it to her cheek.

Nightkit groaned pitifully, and she unconciously leaned into the warmth that his single paw exuded.

It wasn't enough, though.

"Still... too cold..." Nightkit murmured, her voice rasping through the dim gloom of the nursery.

Stormkit scoffed, pulling his paw back.

He shook his head, muttering, "How can you be _cold_, Nightkit? You have a _fever _for StarClan's sake!"

Nightkit blinked, and she suddenly wondered why it was so hard to speak. "W-Where's... Mama...?" Her words were thick, garbled.

Then she began to cough.

Nightkit could feel herself choking on all the muck and fluid in her throat.

She couldn't breathe.

Nightkit saw her brother's face contort with shock.

She couldn't even reassure him that she was okay, and that it was probably a _tiny _little cold.

But Nightkit _wasn't _okay, and she had a feeling that it _wasn't _a tiny little cold.

No, it was something _much _worse.

Nightkit was scared.

She was so, _so _scared.

She didn't want to die.

Dimly, she was aware of the smokey scent of her Father as he caught her before she could hit the ground.

"Nyuugh, Daddy," she whispered, "help me."

Then her entire world was swallowed up by dizzying blackness, and Nightkit knew nothing.

**Stormkit**

Stormkit watched his sister, his brow furrowing at the sight.

A wave of emotion stabbed at his heart.

Stormkit didn't know what it meant.

What were these strange feelings rushing through him?

Worry?

He shook his head. It wasn't anger, _that _he knew.

So if it wasn't anger, then what was it?

Stormkit didn't know, and he didn't like it, either.

Not one bit.

Stormkit watched as his Father gently picked Nightkit up by her scruff, his movements slow and precise, so as to not jostle her.

"I need to take her to Darkflower," Ashfall murmured around Nightkit.

"What do I do then?" he questioned, eying his sister with one blue eye.

"Stay here," his Father answered. "And when your Mother comes back, tell her about your sister immediately."

Stormkit nodded sullenly, then he quickly asked, "Daddy, what made Nightkit collapse like that?"

Ashfall's blue eyes, so much like a dark river, glimmered with mournful sadness, and he said, "I pray to StarClan that it isn't greencough."

"And if it is?" Stormkit questioned.

"Then we must ask StarClan that she is spared," Ashfall answered quietly.

There was an old sadness in his Father's eyes, Stormkit noticed.

Ashfall had been hurt in the past.

But what had he lost?

"What did you lose, Daddy?" he asked quietly.

A sadness deeper than even Leafstorm's etched itself on Ashfall's face, and as Stormkit gazed into those sad, sad eyes, he saw that his Father's hurt had etched itself deep into his very soul.

"You are much too observant for a kit of one moon," Ashfall finally answered.

And that's all he would say.

It seemed that his Father was even more secretive than his Mother.

Stormkit let out a sigh as he watched his Father exit the nursery quickly.

"Why don't I feel sad...?" he mumbled.

Stormkit swiftly looked around the nursery.

The Outsider- the one with the strange name was watching him from his corner, his amber eyes flashing eerily in the gloom of the brambled nursery.

Stormkit felt a jerk in his heart.

It was his anger.

It was acting up again.

A vision suddenly flashed through his eyes.

He saw a massive cat, red eyes flashing in the darkness.

Stormkit blinked. The image was gone.

The only others in the nursery were the Outsider and Blackwing's two kits: Mistkit and Rainkit.

Rosekit was nowhere to be seen, either.

But she was already five moons old, and thus she didn't really have to be around anymore.

But it was utterly freezing outside and Stormkit highly doubted that she would be out playing.

No, he concluded quietly, Rosekit must be with her Mother.

Yes, Stormkit thought, that sounded about right.

Rosekit was with Fernstar.

Now he wouldn't have to deal with this foreign emotion that he now decided he hated.

Worry.

**Leafstorm**

Leafstorm was worried.

She had gone to the dirtplace and had been gone not five minutes.

And when she returned, she had found an empty nest.

And her daughter was missing.

To say Leafstorm was worried was an understatement.

_I knew it_, she thought with some sadness. _My own kit goes missing and I have idea where to find her. Let's face it, I'm a horrible Mother._

No.

Leafstorm was _not _going through this again.

_Take deep breaths_, she instructed herself.

_Now, where to start..._

Raking her gaze around the nursery, Leafstorm spotted the distinctive grey pelt of the Outsider, Dusk.

The kit she had to nurse.

She approached with caution, and as soon as she neared half a tail's length to him, his eyes snapped open.

They were amber and so frighteningly cold that it made Leafstorm wonder what exactly the little kit had to have gone through to make him the way he is.

"You know where my kits went, don't you?" Leafstorm said.

It wasn't really a question as much as a statement.

But the fact went that Dusk knew what had happened.

It was in his eyes.

And Leafstorm knew she had to confirm it.

"I do," the kit answered dully.

"Show me, then."

And that was all there to it.

Dusk shakily got to his paws and padded toward the entrance, his surprisingly large form swallowed by the darkness.

Leafstorm followed.

"They went to a cat named Darkflower," Dusk mewed quietly, and her head snapped up.

"The medicine cat," Leafstorm said. "There's something wrong with my kits? They're sick?"

Dusk glanced at her, his amber eyes producing an inkling of sympathy, if he was even capable of that emotion.

They reached the den and, true to his word, both her kits were there.

And so was Ashfall.

Nightkit lay curled up on a nest of moss, her breathing laboured.

Seeing her daughter like that brought up many unwanted memories.

She saw the Fernstar, then Fernpaw curled up on the same nest of moss, foam and drool gathering at the corner of her lips.

Deep red puncture were laid visible on her shoulder.

Leafstorm whimpered despite herself, it was just like the adder bite all those seasons ago.

Her family looked up.

Someone else burst in.

They looked toward the entrance.

Leafstorm saw Dustcloud, and resting on her shoulder was her silver-furred brother, Breezefur.

He was panting heavily, and in between breaths, a series of coughs escaped him.

Lionfang took one look toward his siblings and his green eyes filled with sadness.

The apprentice medicine cat looked severely troubled, and Leafstorm saw his bottom lip quiver.

He looked as if he were going to burst into tears at any time.

"Set him on the bed of moss beside Nightkit's," Lionfang instructed, his voice tired. "I'll look at Breezefur right now."

Breezefur coughed again once he was seated, and Lionfang pressed a single paw to his throat.

"Green cough?" Breezefur near slurred, his green eyes wide and teary.

"Green cough," the medicine cat apprentice confirmed.

"Fox dung," the silver warrior cursed. "Well, I guess should get comfortable."

"Yes," Lionfang agreed. "You really should."

"Lionfang," Leafstorm rasped, voice thick with worry. "Does my daughter have green cough, too?"

Lionfang's eyes were full of sympathy as he murmured, "Yes."

"Will she live?" Leafstorm pressed. "I mean, she's so young and her body's so tiny..."

"No," Ashfall mewed sharply, his voice laced with pain. "I won't lose another... not like this."

Even Stormkit's normally apathetic face was filled with the slightest hint of sadness and panic.

Dusk's cold eyes were filled with sympathy, too.

"It's not a matter if she's too young or too small," Lionfang said quietly. "It's a matter of whether she wakes up again."

Shock.

That's what Leafstorm felt.

She gazed down at her daughter's slumbering body, shock and infinite sadness twisting at her heart.

"Please wake up, Nightkit," Leafstorm pleaded. "Please wake up for your Mother."

All the while Nightkit continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of her family's desperate pleas for her to wake.

**Nightkit**

Darkness.

That's all Nightkit was borne witness to.

It fed her.

It was her sanctuary.

It protected her when she needed it the most.

But she knew that there was a light at the end of the end of the tunnel.

Nightkit knew she would have to wake up.

_But I can't_, she thought in resognition. _How am I to wake if I don't even know where to start?_

Nightkit knew she would have to reach the light.

But she couldn't move her body.

Pain was coming in on all sides of her.

Why wasn't she waking up?

_Why? _she thought. _Whywhywhwywhwywhwywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?_

_**Why?**_

_Please wake up, Nightkit. _

_Please wake up for your Mother._

That was Leafstorm's voice, and Nightkit knew what she had to do.

She could move her body again.

Then she felt pain.

Like ants crawling and stinging inside her.

It burned like nothing had felt before.

Nightkit screamed, arching her back.

She felt sensations.

She felt hot and cold, hungry and thirsty.

All at the same time.

The light drew closer.

_Wake up..._

Then something snared her and pulled her back.

Nightkit screamed again, and she fought with _everything _to get free.

And she did.

The light was in reaching distance.

Nightkit followed the light.

Then her world was swallowed by light and she was hungry and thirsty and hot and cold and-

She woke up.


End file.
